


Point and Shoot

by summerofspock



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, First Time, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 09:32:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerofspock/pseuds/summerofspock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shore leave should be a nice and relaxing time where Jim can let all of his worries go and enjoy himself. Unfortunately, the universe does not agree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Point and Shoot

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anon prompt: exhibition!kink where Jim gives Spock a handjob in public but when Spock notices everyone looking at Kirk he gets possessive and takes him then and there
> 
> disclaimer: i do not own these characters nor do i profit from this work  
> unbeta'ed and certainly error-rich

After the year they’d had aboard the Enterprise, with things going wrong at every turn, Jim should have realized that even shore leave wouldn’t go according to plan. Unfortunately, he had not yet developed the power of precognition so he set about his holiday with as much verve and enthusiasm as he did every part of his life. He’d had a shitty week and he had been looking forward to shore for months.

How he ended up at a Florentian strip club pounding back xinrit (a potent PINK alchohol) shots with his First officer, Jim didn’t really know, but he was thankful for his friend’s presence. He liked Spock. He especially liked the way the tubular shot glass fit between his full lips as he threw another back primly. Ignoring the spike of arousal, Jim nudged Spock with his elbow and declared “I can’t believe we’re doing this.” He practically had to shout to be heard over the thudding bass. Florencia’s current music stylings reminded Jim strongly of Old Earth techno and the deep thrumming was hypnotic in the low light.

Spock arched an eyebrow at him and set the empty glass on the table in front of their chairs. “Jim, I believe you are inebriated.”

Jim shrugged, relishing the looseness of his limbs. “So? You’re drinking too,” he pointed out.

“I must remind you that Vulcans have an alcohol tolerance much higher than that of a human.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get drunk. That just means you need to drink more.” Kirk said pushing his shot gloss over to Spock, and ignoring the splash of pink fluid over his fingers.

Spock regarded him calmly, but lifted the glass to his lips. Kirk swallowed as he watched Spock drink down the delicious liquor. Jim wondered what the alcohol would taste like on his tongue. Stopping that train of thought, Jim sucked the excess liquid from his thumb and regarded the dancers on the winding platform that took up the main arena of the club. They were of many different species, and genders and Kirk found the blue female particularly enchanting.

Spock made a small sound next to him and Kirk turned back to the Vulcan. “What?” Kirk asked, his tone teasing.

“Do all human males become so distractable when intoxicated?” Spock asked, gesturing at the female Kirk had been ogling.

Jim resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at Spock. “No,” he said firmly. “But I’m not blind. She’s gorgeous.”

“Indeed,” Spock replied, with no real conviction.

Kirk opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a petite humanoid that he recognized as a native. In his scaled hand he held a tray with two ornate glasses perched atop it. “The owner wished for me to send these with his regards as a welcome to all of Starfleet.”  
Spock looked hesitant so Kirk replied enthusiastically, “Come on Spock! Free Booze!” He grabbed the glass closest to him and sniffed the contents. Whatever it was didn’t smell too alcoholic and it was a delightful shade of blue-green that Kirk couldn’t quite name. He sipped experimentally and then grinned. “You gotta try it Spock!”

Spock took the other glass with a nod to the small alien, who immediately departed. He pressed the glass to his lips and allowed a small measure of liquid to pass through. His eyes immediately widened.

“Fucking great, right?!” Jim said as he continued to drink the mysterious beverage. A few moments passed in silence as Jim reveled in the sensations the drink produced. If he wasn’t drunk before, he definitely was now.

Setting his now empty glass before him, Jim stood without thought and turned to Spock. “Come dance with me!” The tone was his own, but some part of Jim’s brain could not recognize the words. Had he spoken them? Spock stood with him and Jim took his hand, leading him to a part of the club where couples and groups writhed to the beat. Looking at their intertwined hands, Jim felt his heart speed up. He’d fantasized about touching Spock like this; what was he doing? Trying to will himself to stop, Jim took a step closer to Spock and put his hands on his friend’s hips as he began to sway to the music.

Spock’s usually blank face gave way to mild confusion, but he began to move with Kirk. Losing time, everything became a blur of blue light and sound, punctuated by the feeling of Spock’s hands on him, of their hips pressed together. Moments, or minutes, or hours later, Kirk found himself seated once more with Spock next to him. The empty glasses from before sat in front of them and the low blue lighting had been replaced by a spotlight directed at the center of the platform where a large white pillow now lay, looking inviting and soft. Another Florentian stood in the circle of light, smiling. He activated the mic on his clothes and began to speak, his voice unusually deep for his size. “Now begins the performance section of tonight’s entertainment. As always, two lucky patrons have been selected and given the preshura serum to heighten pleasure and eliminate inhibition. Would you please come to the stage?”

As if being pulled by an invisible wire, Kirk found himself walking onto the stage to join the Florentian who looked up at him with a smile. The audience began to cheer and Jim squinted into the darkness, trying to assess the number of people seated around them. Spock drew up next to him, placing a hand on his arm, the small touch focused all of Jim’s wandering attention. Warmth flooded his stomach, pooling low and he realized he was already hard.

The Florentian cleared his throat and asked, “If you would give me your names.”

“Jim,” he answered without commanding his mouth to divulge the information.

“Spock,” came the Vulcan’s own response. Jim turned to look at him and his mouth watered. He took in Spock’s heightened color and he tried helplessly to resist the touch him. He found he couldn’t. He mindlessly stroked a hand down Spock’s regulation blacks (the only thing Kirk could convince him to wear that wasn’t his uniform) appreciating the firm body he encountered. Unable to stop himself, his hand curled around Spock’s hip possessively.

The Florentian said something in a language Jim didn’t know, but it must have been important because the crowd went wild as he vacated the stage. He felt completely lost and the only thing grounding him was the look in Spock’s deep brown eyes. Jim licked his lips as his world began to blur once more.

Spock growled as the bright spotlight dimmed marginally and pulled Jim against him. The press of their bodies made Jim gasp at the intensity of his arousal. He felt Spock hard against his hip and he tried desperately to think straight. Spock pressed his mouth into the seam of Jim’s shoulder and, with apparent effort, said, “The drinks, Captain. I believe they are an aphrodisiac. I find I am unable to control myself.” Spock then licked the lobe of his ear, making Jim quiver.

Everything clicked into place and his arousal surged higher. He was being forced to have sex with his best friend under the scrutiny of an audience; he had never fancied himself to be an exhibitionist, but he wanted the approval of the audience. The approval of Spock. Maybe it was the drug, but at that point it was impossible to tell. The power of the drug was intense. All Jim could see was Spock. All Jim wanted was Spock. The small part of him that wanted to fight quieted as Jim shushed Spock and cradled his head with his hand. Knowing Spock hated to lose control, and hated being put on display, Jim took the lead, prepared to do anything to save his friend’s dignity. He stepped away from Spock and took a seat on the cushion provided. Closing his eyes as he sat next to Jim, Spock forced out, “I believe it will be easier if we do not fight it.”

Hating how thrilled he felt, Jim nodded and began running his hands up and down Spock’s chest. Someone in the audience shouted an obscenity, but Kirk couldn’t care less. He swung one of his legs over Spock’s hips and, seated in his lap, pulled at the hem of Spock’s shirt, untucking it from his pants. He unbuttoned the Vulcan’s trousers and questing fingers wrapped around his length. Spock closed his eyes with a shudder. “Jim,” he breathed as his head fell back and his hands clutched at the fabric of Jim’s shirt. The heat of Spock’s erection burned away all remaining reservations Jim had between them.

“Yes, just like that,” Jim said into Spock’s ear, teasing the point with his tongue. Spock made little sounds as his hands fell away from Kirk to find purchase in the pillow beneath them. His mouth was slightly open and a green blush was high on his cheeks. “So beautiful,” Kirk whispered. Spock’s eyes flew open and locked with his. “Come for me. I want to see you come.”

He worked his hand up and down Spock’s shaft, trying to keep his penis shielded from the view of the audience. He desperately wanted to feel that gorgeous cock in his mouth, but he knew that would be too vulnerable for Spock. The double ridge beneath the head of Spock’s penis seemed to produce a significant amount of lubrication so Kirk ran his thumb across it, smearing the liquid over his palm. The touch made Spock moan so Kirk repeated it until his first officer began to shake. Feeling his hand was slick enough, Jim began to work him in earnest, leaning across his hand to press his lips against Spock’s. Spock swiped his tongue across Jim’s lips and Jim opened them obligingly. The feel of Spock’s tongue against his made Jim’s arousal almost unbearable and he began to pump Spock furiously, matching the rhythm of his tongue.

Spock pulled out of the kiss and came with a half shout. Jim watched in fascination. “Gorgeous,” he murmured.

“We want to see the blond one!” someone in the audience shouted. Jim’s reactionary smirk died when he saw the look on Spock’s face. Without any warning he was being pressed into the pad beneath them. Completely disoriented by their sudden change in position, Jim saw stars when Spock kissed him again. It was brutal and more teeth than lips, but Jim loved it. He sucked Spock’s tongue into his mouth and moaned around it. Everything felt so good.

Spock growled as he pulled away from the kiss. Ripping Jim’s shirt in two, he descended on his chest with tenacity, sucking and biting little marks as he worked his way from Jim’s belly button to his neck. Jim could not stop the sounds he made when Spock’s hot tongue circled his nipple. “Ah!” his cry turning into a whine as Spock sucked his nipple into his mouth. Jim sunk his hands into Spock’s hair and continued to moan.

“Look at that blonde slut! Give him your cock!” The audience murmured its agreement and, by the sounds in the darkness, it became clear that most of the audience was pleasuring itself at the sight on the stage.

Not one to shrink from a show, Jim made an especially loud moan before Spock sunk his teeth into Jim’s neck, making him cry out in pain. “Mine. You are mine,” Spock said into his skin before flipping Jim onto his stomach and deftly stripping his pants from him. Spock ran his hands down his back and parted the cleft of his buttocks with nimble fingers. Jim pushed back into the sensation. “Oh god, yes. Fuck me, Spock. Please.”

Using spit and the lubrication leaking from his once more erect penis, Spock pressed into Jim ruthlessly. It wasn’t long before Jim was begging for more. “I just want your cock in me. Now. God. Now.”

Spock flipped Jim over and kissed him once more. Hooking Jim’s legs over his shoulders, Spock eased into him as he whimpered in mingled pain and pleasure. Once fully seated, Jim hooked his legs around Spock’s waist, drawing him closer. “You feel perfect. So fucking perfect,” Jim gasped as he Spock began to move against him.

The sounds from the audience began to increase and Spock thrust faster. A particularly loud shout cause Spock to stop mid thrust. He ran a proprietary hand down Jim’s chest as he leaned forward, Jim leaned up to kiss him, but Spock interrupted the motion by beginning to speak quietly. “You are mine, Jim. No one else here will have you. They desire you. I can feel it, but this-“ Spock thrust into him sharply, and he cried out. “Is mine alone.”

Jim fucked himself back on Spock’s dick, achingly hard and desperate for more. Tossing his head to the side he groaned. “Nobody else. No. Only you.”

Spock made a low sound and grasped his hips with enough force to bruise. Tilting him slightly, Spock used the new angle to hit Jim’s prostate with every motion of his hips. “Again,” Spock grated out, digging his blunt nails into Jim’s ass.

“Yours, Spock,” Jim cried, latching on to the pillow as waves of pleasure threatened to make him lose himself. “Yours, yes. Yours!”

Spock reached between them and with two strokes of his hand Jim was coming so hard he lost all of his senses. Everything was pure, white, blinding pleasure. As Spock collapsed on top of him, he began to lose consciousness; the licentious cheering of the crowd guided him into blackness as he realized he still had his boots on.

 

Jim woke in a deep mental fog. As he rose to consciousness he became aware of his surroundings. He and Spock lay side by side on a cushion in a small, low lit room. How did they get there? Jim rubbed a hand over his face, noting his swollen mouth and sore hips. He looked at Spock who seemed to be in a deep sleep and he groaned. Shit.

“Spock,” Jim said as he stood, looking around the room. Two plain Florentian robes hung by the door and Jim slid one over his nakedness, savoring the smooth feel of the fabric on tender skin. “Spock, you need to wake up,” he repeated with no answer.

Jim tried the door and was relieved to find that it opened. Immediately, the Florentian from the night before stood before him, a friendly smile on his face. “I hope you are comfortable. Is there anything you require before your mate awakens?”

Stepping into the hallway, trying his best to look fierce and intimidating in nothing but his boots and the thin robe he had just donned. Apparently it worked because the small being quailed under his gaze. “What the fuck did you give us?” Jim asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

The scaly alien began to babble. “It was my understanding that you and your mate desired an exciting holiday. If I have been mistaken, I am sorry sir.”

“He is not my mate,” Jim hissed, ignoring the stab of envy he felt at the thought.

Looking horrified, the Florentian swallowed before speaking. “But the preshura drug should not work between two who are not mated.”

Jim closed his eyes and willed his rage to calm. So what if he wanted to fuck Spock within an inch of his life, he shouldn’t have done it when they were both under the influence of some cosmic roofie. “Fine, whatever. Just how does it work? Will there be any-“ Jim searched for right word, “side effects?”

The Florentian snapped to attention and began to rattle off an explanation. “The substance depresses the logic centers of the brain and stimulates pleasure. It works as a temporary chemical bond between those who ingest the same strain of the beverage. The only lingering effect is ease of arousal for a period of one terran week.”

Jim nodded tersely. Simultaneously frustrated and relieved that it wasn’t worse. The Florentian scuttled away when Jim dismissed him. Turning back to the room, Jim took a deep breath and ignored the leaden feeling in his stomach before walking in to face Spock.

Spock stood in the center of the room running his hands over his unkempt bowl cut. He was lucky enough to still have his clothes because nobody was ripping them off of his Vulcan body. Jim stopped that train of thought as a blush spread across his cheeks. “So,” Jim began ruefully. “Think we can beam aboard the Enterprise without anybody seeing us?” He grinned at Spock who refused to meet his eyes and Jim felt the lead in his stomach turn icy cold.

“I will request beam up immediately.”

Kirk wanted to reach out to his friend, do anything just to make Spock look at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to risk any more than he already had. He sighed. “Thank you, Commander,” he said, knowing the use of the tile would make Spock feel more comfortable.

They stood in awkward silence until Jim felt his body be swept up in the transporter.

 

Their first shift together was the next day and Jim sighed as he pulls on his command tunic, painfully aware of the bite mark on his neck. Nobody would ask him about it and even if they did, he could just say he got frisky with the locals.

He settled himself in the command chair, trying to ignore the pressure it exerted on his most tender areas. Every shift of his body was a painful reminder of his escapades of the last few days. Damn that Vulcan was strong.

He caught Spock’s eye as he made a particularly large shift, trying to get comfortable, and if Kirk hadn’t known better he would have thought Spock was smirking. But that was impossible, Jim told himself.

As always, Bones found his way onto the bridge and began to pester Jim about his life choices. Rolling his eyes fondly, Jim turned to the good doctor whose eyes bulged when he spotted the giant love bite on Jim’s neck. The shocked looked turned sly and Bones elbowed him jovially. “Have a successful shore leave Jim? Was it adequately relaxing?”

Jim smiled at Bones and part of him wanted to tell Bones exactly how relaxing it had been (and who exactly had relaxed him), but he wanted to respect Spock’s privacy. Besides, they hadn’t even talked about what happened. Jim didn’t think he should test that boundary quite yet so he just shrugged, letting a smirk play across his lips.

Bones clapped him on the shoulder and grinned. “Who was the lucky lady, Jim? Any new and exciting species?”

Jim was surprised by Spock clearing his throat pointedly to Jim’s right. When had he gotten there?

“I’m disappointed doctor. It seems I have once again overestimated your talent. I thought you should at least be able to recognize the unique dentition of a Vulcan,” Spock declared loud enough for the entire bridge crew to hear.

Jim sucked in his breath, torn between blushing furiously and laughing his ass off. Silence fell around them as Bones processed Spock’s words. Jim watched his friend go through a whole range of emotion that settled on shock. His mouth fell open and he looked at Jim, clearly looking for an explanation. Jim just laughed, trying to ignore the sear of anger and embarrassment.

“Really, Jim?” Bones asked, shaking his head fondly. “If you were desperate you coulda just asked me.”

That just made Jim laugh harder. Unfortunately, Spock was not amused as he inserted himself into the captain’s view. “I would like to have words with you, Captain,” Spock said icily.

Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, Jim stood. “Lead on, Spocko.”

Spock made an annoyed sound as they walked to the ready room. Once inside, Spock engaged the emergency lock and shoved Jim against the bulkhead, pressing their bodies together.

“What the fuck, Spock!” Jim wheezed with the little breath left in his lungs.

“McCoy will not have you as he so pathetically implied.”

Spock held his wrists against the cool metal of the ship wall with enough intensity to bruise. Jim looked into his eyes and the lust he saw there made everything click into place. “Wait, you do want me?” Jim asked. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth and he tried to ignore the desperate hope he felt at the thought of Spock returning his feelings.

“Was that not clear, Jim?” Spock asked before capturing his lips in kiss as brutal as the ones they had shared on the floor of the Florentian club.

Jim pulled away and rested his head against the bulkhead simply trying to breathe. “It is now,” he assured Spock who released his wrists tentatively. “I honestly had no idea.”

Jim took another step towards his first and pressed a hand against the pale cheek he had admired for so long. Spock pressed into the contact causing Jim’s breath to hitch slightly as he drew Spock in for a kiss. Jim made it as gentle as he knew how, licking his way into Spock’s mouth so he could worship as he had wanted to under the influence of the preshura drug. Spock’s arms drew him closer and Jim ended the kiss to lean his forehead against Spock’s. “If you want me, I’m yours,” Jim said quietly.

Spock pressed their lips together briefly. “Good, ashayam.”

Loving the sound of the Vulcan word on Spock’s tongue, Jim laced their fingers together before pulling away from the embrace. “Now let’s stop shirking our duties.”

Spock growled when he turned away and Jim laughed. “What? There’s only a couple more hours left on alpha shift and then you can fuck my brains out.”

“Four point two hours,” Spock grumbled but he followed the captain back to the bridge where the entire crew was pointedly looking at anything besides their commanding officers.

Jim slapped Spock’s ass before settling back into his chair. The unanimous gasp from the crew was worth the glare Spock shot him as he crossed to his station.

Jim just laughed, looking forward to the end of the shift.


End file.
